Sweaty Palms and Dog Walking

Chloe's palms were sweating. Again. She stared at them in the bathroom mirror during third period, willing them to just chill already. "You're being so weird," her best friend Maya had texted earlier. "Just TALK to him." But talking to Austin meant risking her carefully curated social camouflage. Ever since she'd shown up to school in September wearing that vine-patterned dress her mom picked out (she'd thought it looked like a trendy vitamin supplement ad, everyone else thought she looked like she was forty), she'd been trying to fly under the radar.

"Your sister's dog needs walking again," her mom announced at dinner. "Mrs. Chen's paying twenty bucks this time."

Chloe practically choked on her rice. "The bulldog? The one that looks like a loaf of bread?"

"Buster. Yes. It's good money."

Turned out, Austin walked dogs too. For actual money, not just pity walks for his grandma's poodle. And somehow, every afternoon that week, they ended up crossing paths at the park while their respective charges sniffed each other awkwardly.

"Your dog is literally staring at me," Austin said on day four, nodding at Buster, who was indeed giving him the side-eye.

"He's judgmental. Runs in the family."

Austin laughed. A real laugh, not the polite one he gave teachers.

Chloe's palms were sweating again. But this time, she didn't care.

Friday, she pulled a bottle from her backpack. "Vitamin D supplements," she announced, setting it on the cafeteria table dramatically. "My doctor says I'm deficient. Probably from all this hanging out inside when it's actually nice out."

Maya raised an eyebrow. "Is this your way of saying we should go somewhere?"

"Maybe."

Austin sat down two tables away. Chloe's heart did that embarrassing flutter thing.

"So," she said, suddenly loud. "Anyone want to come with? I need UV rays. STAT."

Austin looked over. "Dog park's got sun."

"The dog park," Maya mouthed, looking like she might explode from holding in a squeal.

Chloe shrugged, trying to look casual instead of like she was about to pass out from happiness. "Yeah. I mean, if you're heading there anyway..."

"Twenty minutes," Austin said. "Meet by the entrance."

"Bet."

Her palms were sweating. But for the first time since September, Chloe didn't care about the moisture or the social calculus or whether she was being too obvious. Some things were worth a little sweat.